Poetry Vignettes

Beetle on a String

We looped a thread around the beetle’s body. It buzzed over our heads. Circling, circling, circling. No remorse. No retreat. Wasn’t about life. Wasn’t about a game. Was about the day, was about time. The Scarab Beetle, lost in the world. Found. Only to be handcuffed for being strong. Held down, flight cancelled for the night. The […]

Notes Poetry

Today, I read a poem…

It was by Helena Lipstadt entitled “A Quarrel with the Village of My Birth.” The word “village” lured me in. I fell in love with each “Even her” – especially in the following line: “Even her avenues are lined with pikes.” Then I read each “Of course” and was compelled to share. Read “A Quarrel […]